


The Witcher and his Songbird

by Serazimei



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Music, The Second Chapter is Pure Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22612798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serazimei/pseuds/Serazimei
Summary: Jaskier isn‘t the only bard around. And others of his craft also seek inspiration by what glimpses they get in taverns.They might not make a good epic song, but a silly romantic jingle often times sticks easier in the mind of men.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 41
Kudos: 336





	1. Chapter 1

The tavern was actually nicer than most others they had been to Jaskier had to admit. Warm and cozy, an orange, welcoming glow inviting strangers into its space from afar. Little pots with greenery had been strategically placed on window sills and ivy crept up the left side of the building. It looked like it was taken right out of a fairy tale. And that wasn‘t only the road weariness talking. Although after three days of walking through constant rain, shoes having caked over by layers of mud, hair and clothes pressed flat onto cold, wet skin it _was_ easy to get him excited. Jaskier stepped into the shelter first, his giddy smile and friendly attitude the calm before the storm that was Geralts grumpy, hulking figure. Immediately eyes went their way and even the music stopped for a few, unprofessional seconds before picking up again. Both decided to ignore the attention in order to approach the innkeeper. While Jaskier did the talking, ordering a room and two baths, Geralt was the one to pay.  
It had become sort of a routine for the two whenever they were in the middle of civilization. Jaskier, ever the more communicative of the two, did most of the mundane talking and Geralt acted as his body guard when the bard ran his mouth too much and got himself into trouble.  
Today though, even Jaskier was being stingy with his word output. He was cold, wet and tired, his throat sore either from an oncoming cold or from complaining too much on the way to a warm bed.  
The only thing on his mind now was a hearty meal, a hot bath and a good nights rest laying on top of something softer than the hard, unforgiving ground that took up most of the wilderness. Oh, how his standards had plummeted!

Geralt pushed him towards the tables. „Go sit down by the fire.“

„But Geralt! They will see my lutecase and then, once I look less like a wet dog, they will recognise me and demand songs. I‘m tired! I want a hot bath.“

The witcher gave him a blank stare and then pointedly looked at the bard currently sitting atop of one of the tables singing a crooning ballad that people could pay only half the attention to. Jaskier sputtered in mock offense. „You can barely call that entertainment, Geralt. Just look at the guests! Do they look intrigued by his tales? No. They look like they are either about to fall asleep or start a tavern brawl to get rid of the boredom.“  
„Hmm.“ Any outsider would have thought the Witcher was about one more complaint away from committing murder. The innkeeper had decided to flee to the far end of the counter just in case, that was for sure. Only Jaskier seemed oblivious to it, feebly trying to warm up by rubbing his arms, still standing close to the mountain of black leather. „The bath won‘t be ready until later. Better eat now.“

„But-“

„You can always say no.“ Geralt growled, obviously fed up with the bards antics. The people closest to them twitched a bit further away. Jaskier just let out a huff and a „fine.“ before stalking in the direction of the fire with a grin.

The two ate in relative silence before getting up to their room, presumeably to take that bath. Only an hour later Jaskier bounded down the stairs again, in colourful, dry clothing, looking more alive than most of the patrons. He beelined for the other bard, who gladly stopped to let Jaskier take the stage.

„My dear people!“ Jaskie yelled with the sort of passion only the most dedicated or drunk artists could muster. Heads turned slightly in his direction. Even without the - to most - monstrous form the Butcher of Blaviken at his side he woke curiousity. „The mood around here seems to me a little dry. How about I liven up the place a bit with the tales I gathered while wandering with a Witcher!“

Intrigued noises, some shuffling and even more attention drawn, Jaskier drew his lute a little closer, still standing on top of a table, energetic and bright and started to sing. It didn‘t take long for a crowd to form around him. Such a kind of performance was hard to come by in this little village, after all. Coins were tossed and unknown lyrics clumsely sung along. It was a party. So distracted where the masses that only a few noticed the Witcher coming down after a while, walking over to the barkeeper and after a brief chat settling down in a corner of the tavern.  
Jaskier was joined, by the other bard about halfway through and the two played a few familiar songs together. The coin was split fairly between the two at the end and Jaskier was only too happy to linger among the crowd, flirting, laughing and drinking, mouth loose as ever.  
In the end though he joined the Witcher again, sliding in beside him as if he were a dear friend and not someone who could tear him apart as easily as most people tore their bread.

„We should stay here for a while.“ Jaskier chattered, already halfway to drunk, slumping a bit into Geralts side. „The people here are starved for some good music. And bored folks pay well.“

Geralt shoved him off, but there was no real heat behind the movement. „Hmm. They have a Drowner problem here. We can stay one more day.“

„Oh Drowners! Common pests of the watery bits of the map.~“ Jaskier half sang. „I‘ll better get ready then.“ he added a bit more sullen, gazing to one of the windows. There was only darkness left outside. The uneven splattering of rain and howling of the wind made the fragile glass rattle.

Geralt shook his head. „Not tonight. Tomorrow. And you stay. You only get in the way.“

„Not a chance, how am I to get inspirations for new songs in a dingy tavern? Maybe if you actually talked about what happens on your hunts. And I mean using more than three words at a time. Then I wouldn‘t have to tag along. But like this-“

„Jaskier.“ Geralt growled. „It‘s just a bunch of Drowners. Just for once stay put.“ 

„But-“ the bard sneezed accidently inhaling something of the mead and began to cough. A not very well made arguement. It was because he was preoccupied that he didn‘t see the small uplift of Geralts corners.

„You‘re drunk Jaskier.“ He grabbed Jaskier – still a little wheezing - by the scruff of his collar and dragged him up with him, earning a whine from the young human. „Off to bed.“

„I‘m not a child.“ came the whiny reply.

„Had me fooled there for a second.“

~~~

It was nearing midday when a disgruntled bard hopped down the stairs in a hurry, nearly breaking his neck as he slipped on the last two steps. Luck would have it that he caught his footing in time. He stumbled to the bar spitting a few choice curses before remembering himself, sending the innkeeper a strained smile.

„Hullo! Have you seen Geralt of Rivia? You know big, white hair, always glares at everything?“

„Yes...He went out a while ago. Promised to take out the Drowners by the lake.“

„Great.“ Jaskier muttered. „And where is that lake?“

„About an hour ride to the west. You can follow the river there...But...If I might ask, why would you want to go after him?“

Jaskier halted in his steps, blinking in his confusion. „Why wouldn‘t I?“ it was said with such blinding conviction that the innkeeper felt something in his worldview crack a bit.

„He‘s dangerous-“

„He‘s my friend.“ Jaskier interrupted him with more venom in his voice than was probably neccessary.

„That...may be, but he can surely take care of himself.“

Jaskiers shoulders sagged a bit. „I know.“ he nearly whined and so quiet that barely a human could hear he added „Doesn‘t stop me from worrying...“

A mug full of honey wine scratched along the wood of the counter. Jaskier stared at it with furrowed brows. The innkeeper gave a toothless smile. „On the house. Your performance yesterday brought in more money than usual. Would you be willing to sing again? Folks here have already asked after you.“

„Well...“ Jaskier hesitated, before taking the offered drink. Geralt _had_ said that he should stay put. And the innkeeper was right. He would be fine. Better to make some extra coin then, make himself useful. Maybe he could even persuade Geralt into staying another night at the tavern if he payed. Mug in hand he gave the innkeeper a small smile and a nod before trodding off to the nearest table to start his show. The inhabitants of the inn perked up as he did. This time they already cheered at some of his songs and could sing along to others.  
Midday stretched into Noon and then into the Evening. Jaskier sang and played half of the time and tried to compose new songs while talking to the entertainment starved patrons. It seemed the other bard so willing to give up the stage to Jaskier was a local one, who barely started dipping into music. Which meant washed out songs and tentative melodies most of the time. It was no wonder then, that the young bard stuck to him like glue and Jaskier was only too happy to give some pointers. He might be competition, but it wasn‘t like Jaskier could be everywhere. And the more people sang his songs the more famous he‘d get anyway.  
And if he got to sing some praises in regard to the Witchers and Geralt specifically, well than that was his business.  
The good company managed to distract him a bit, but not enough. Finally he had to stand up again to go to the innkeeper. A nagging, worrying voice telling him to at least check some facts again.

„Excuse me, good sir?“ he adressed the innkeeper. „You said you had a Drowner problem, correct?“

„Yes?“

„Would you, by some chance, know how many Drowners?“

The man shook his head.

Jaskier sighed. „Great, okay. Nothing to do then.“ Again the bards eyes shifted to the door wondering if it was still too late to follow Geralt.

He was probably worrying for nothing. It was just Drowners and it was just getting dark. Or darker, given that the sky had been crowded with big grey clouds all day. Geralt had told him once that Drowners were mostly active at night. So it was probable that his Witcher friend was just waiting around collecting flowers or spending quality time with Roach or something. Jaskier sniffed and went back over to his new acquaintance. The tavern was slowly filling with the nightly crowd. Some faces he had already seen at lunch, others were new, but looked eager. Time to start another round of songs then.  
He had just finished his fourth song as the door to the tavern burst open. In stepped a drenched monster hunter, blood, guts and mud stuck to every part of him. He was holding the head of particularly big specimen, which he thumped onto the counter with enough force to dent its chin.  
Seeing his friend alive and grumpy as ever Jaskier used the timing to start his famous song „Toss a Coin to the Witcher.“ He hadn‘t played it yet, wanting to use it when Geralt returned. One to annoy the Witcher, and two, to get maximum profit.  
As expected the song earned him a scathing look from Geralt and laughter from the crowd. Jaskier excused himself right after, promising to only take a short break before stalking up to his friend.

„-didn‘t only have a Drowner problem.“ he caught the Witcher saying.

„Ohhh, that‘s a Drowned Dead isn‘t it?“ Jaskier asked now regretting not following after all.

„Hmm.“

The innkeeper looked confused. „There‘s a difference?“

Jaskier inwardly sighed at Geralts nod and stepped a little closer. „Indeed my dear fellow. They are much more deadly. Faster and stronger, too. Especially without the right preparation.“

A beat of silence as the innkeeper shoved some coins towards the Witcher. Geralt took it without a word, but Jaskier cleared his throat. „You gave him false information that could have had him killed. And he took care of a truly horrible beast for you. Not to forget the extra coin you made with my being here.“

Another bout of silence, shuffling and more money swapping sides, before Jaskier nodded with a grin. „Pleasure to make business with you.“

„Right...“ the innkeeper huffed, partly put out and partly confused. „Could you please get rid of that thing now please?“ he said, pointing at the head.

Geralt grunted taking it and stomping out again briefly before coming back in again. Jaskier – in the meantime – paid for another bath and a night, as well as a meal for his friend, which he shoved in front of Geralt before going up to prepare the bath. So he might have lied to the crowd a little. Whatever they were out of here tomorrow anyway.

„You don‘t need to pamper me, you know.“ Geralt grumbled half heartedly as he stepped into the room. Looking decidedly less like a drowned rat.

„If I don‘t you‘ll just keep stinking like cow entrails, rotten water and what not. I have to walk next to you, you know. I‘d rather not have to fight my need to vomit whenever the wind blows unfavourably.“

A undignified squeak could be heard downstairs as Geralt playfully chucked some of the gross matter on his armor at his friend. It was thankfully the only retaliation Jaskier got before the Witcher of Blaviken stripped and got into the bath.  
Jaskier settled down behind him, no hesitation in his hands as he reached for white, blood streaked hair.

„No „thank you Jaskier, for feeding and cleaning me.“ No I get entrails flung after me. Entrails! I‘d understand rotten food. Even though my performances are always stellar. But no, the Witcher needs to be extra and gory-“

„Jaskier.“ a low rumble, barely concealing amusement „If you keep this up I might think you are trying to drown me and act accordingly.“

Hands gentled in their movements, teasing forth a small, pleased noise even when the complaining didn‘t cease.  
Over the years of travelling together Geralt got used to this side of Jaskier, though. The constant stream of noise only worth a teasing word or token protest now. Truth was, Geralt missed the chatter whenever he and the bard parted ways again for one reason or another. Missed the pampering, too, despite not needing it.  
Maybe he had grown old and soft.  
His suspicions were at least partly confirmed by the fact that, after retiring for the night, he didn‘t stay in his own bed for long. Jaskiers shaking form was a whole other kind of noise. One he was not very happy about. And it was quelled best with the heat of his body.  
And well, he had to admit, if only in the deepest darkest and most private bits of his mind, that the snuggling wasn‘t that bad either.

~~~

Geralt had already gone outside to ready Roach for the road, when Jaskier finally moved his ass out of bed. He knew that he was pushing his luck with his tardiness, but no one could really blame him for wanting to soak up the last bit of warmth and comfort before starting on another long few days with nothing but trees, dusty treks, chirping of birds and – if they were unlucky – monster and bandit attacks.  
The loud whiny of Roach made him speed up his movements, though. And he was jumping down the stairs by the time hooves clacked on the road. With a flurry of motion Jaskier barreled through the tavern and ran after his Witcher.

„Hey! Don‘t you dare leave me behind you bastard!“ Jaskier managed to yell. Whether it was Geralt or Roach wanting to get one up on him he didn‘t know, but the horse trotted down the path even faster at that. It was for naught, of course. The bard eventually catched up to them, a little out of breath.

„Hmmm. Roach we should do this more often. See how quiet he becomes when he has to catch his breath.“

„Don‘t you dare.“ Jaskier gasped.

They settled into comfortable walking speed not soon after. Jaskier idly playing his lute once the heavens decided that they had dropped enough water onto the earth. It wasn‘t until around a week later that they set foot into civilization again.  
Given that the days journeying had been rather pleasant, Jaskier was less ecstatic to be around so many people again. Especially because of the rather cold, hostile stares Geralt was getting on the street. Curious enough the closer they wandered to one particular inn the more often they would recieve cheeky grins accompanied by giggles and hushed whispers instead. Which only helped to put the Witcher more on edge.

„We could just go somewhere else, you know?“ Jaskier reminded him tentatively. Watching the the Witchers jaw tense and crack the closer they got.

„No.“

Well that was that then. At least _he_ wouldn‘t be the one getting them in trouble this time.  
As soon as they were close enough they could hear the music. The door stood open, letting in the fresh afternoon breeze.  
They lyrics made both of them stop in their tracks, when they were finally registered.

_In a World so cold and cruel  
there once stood a man feared by all  
The Witcher known as the Butcher  
O Geralt of Rivia, O Geralt of Rivia_

_Along came a songbird chatty and bright  
Who followed the Witcher on his quest  
And who, with all his love and might  
Turned around the publics mind_

_The Witcher and his Songbird_  
Together they wander  
One silent and hard  
The other loud and tender 

Jaskier blinked oddly moved by the whole thing, barely registering as Geralt stepped forward and into the building. He would have continued to stay outside and listen, if not a hand had tugged him along. The music didn‘t stop this time, the bard who had been at the last tavern now used to the two. The guy did nervously glance in their direction, though.

„Jaskier what did you do?“ Geralt muttered standing stiffly only a few feet away from the entrance, stares and smiles from patrons pinning him in place. He still had one of his hands fisted into Jaskiers bright fabric.

„What do you mean? I didn‘t do anything.“

„That‘s not one of yours then?“

Jaskier scoffed. „Please! I would never insert myself into a story like that. I might hint my being there, but definitely not make myself a constant part of my stories. What kind of horrible storyteller do you think I am? It‘s bad etiquette to write praises about oneself!“

„Alright, alright...But...He‘s singing.“

„He is.“ Jaskier nodded. „And much better than the last time we saw him, too.“

„That‘s not the point!“

„Hmmm?“ Jaskier turned Geralts favourite word against him.

„He‘s singing about us!“

„Yes. It‘s rather flattering, really.“

Geralt groaned. „Of course you would like it...“

Jaskier shrugged. „Hey it‘s good publicity!“

Together they moved to the bar and ordered some drinks, Jaskier teasingly leaning back into the Witchers side to comfortably view the performance, giving a grin and a wink to the nervous looking bard on the stage.

Miracle of miracles, Geralt let him slouch on him, only grunting lightly in feigned displeasure. „If he starts trying to accompany us, because he sees us as muses, he‘s going to be your responsibility.“

„What, why?“

„Cause I already have a bird to take care of, apparently.“

Jaskier hummed, not able to wrestle down the delighted grin, nor the warmth bubbling up in his chest. For once he didn‘t deign to reply, instead pressing a bit firmer against Geralts side. And if the Witcher shifted a bit to accommodate him better. Well that was their business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was mostly written to get a feel for the characters tbh.  
> I haven't even watched the series yet, only read a whole lot of fanfiction  
> and started playing Witcher 2 to get a feel for the world (also that's  
> the only game my laptop can handle, or I would have started with  
> Witcher 3)
> 
> They are both probably OC as hell given that I'm only familiar with  
> their fanfiction versions XD But I'm already in love with them so I'll  
> probs write more while watching the series and stuff.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was not planned but a comment from @Crimson_Hope saying: "Okay now I'm just imagining Geralt being followed by a group of bards with Jaskier as the leader"
> 
> just got the idea stuck in my head. So here is this utter ridiculousness XD

It wasn‘t like Jaskier had planned on taking Geralt up on his word. It had obviously been said in jest and come from a place of rarely shown fondness. But he also couldn‘t say that he didn‘t find the whole thing extremely hilarious. If he hadn‘t been so preoccupied leading everyone on he would have started to write a song about it.  
The thing was that the young bard at the tavern really did want to join their journey. Once the guy had scraped up enough courage to talk to them he admitted that the two inspired him to go out into the world and create his own pieces. He was also fond of Jaskiers teaching method and wanted to learn more about songwriting and lute playing. And, well, Geralt _had_ said it was fine.  
He bitched around a little, of course, and he made sure that Jaskier understood that he was the one responsible for this one. Jaskier was both ecstatic and a little fearful of the responsibility. He didn‘t let anything show, though. Who was he to deny a passionate student?  
When they left the town the following week – Geralt getting rid of some Kikimora in the nearby swamp area – it was with two people tagging along the Witchers horse. Jaskier as always started up playing his lute, experimenting around with a few new melodies and overall enjoying the annoyed grunts his travelling companion made. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the first tentative notes rose up beside him to mingle with his own. But as soon as he realized what was happening a giddy smile nearly split his face in half.  
The rest of the way was used to give pointers to the young one, for once chatting up a storm with purpose. He wasn‘t frequently requested for guest lectures in Oxenfurt for nothing after all.

Having someone to sing duets with during the bleak, boring hours of the day was a blast and even Geralt seemed to have gotten used to the constant stream of music when they made their next stop. His growing fondness betrayed by the extra food he hunted for the group.  
Two bards where harder to feed than one, but they also made twice as much money. Splitting up they were able to entertain more crowds, joining in the evening again to give a double performance. The time on the road had been perfect for practice and so their show was well coordinated. It also meant that Jaskier could focus on following Geralt on his monster hunting quests far easier, now. With one bard staying behind to perform in the streets or at the marketplace, the other was free to make sure the Witcher didn‘t get himself killed.  
He had to admit he did like sharing a room alone with Geralt again. He had missed the intimacy he could have with his friend whenever no one was around. Geralt was a quiet fellow even when it was just Jaskier. But with another one added to the mix he said even less. Jaskier had craved the banter that occasionately sprung up between them. Had missed seeing his friend naked and vulnerable, trusting and relaxed.

On the third night a third bard showed up, curious about the singing duo and the Witcher. Only a conversation later three pairs of feet marched behind Geralt as he rode onward, two male and one female voice singing his praise, Jaskier in the lead. Two lutes and one harp used as an undercurrent of noise.  
Three must have been the magical number. No longer did it seem scary to approach the Witcher or one of the bards to ask to tag along. It didn‘t help that the bards under Jaskiers thumb gushed over the opportunities travelling with them brought, wherever they could.  
Jaskier didn‘t have the heart to tell the new entries no and Geralt was thoroughly overwhelmed by the whole debacle.  
Two more joined on seperate occasions, found in pubs and taverns. Another was added on the road. And the last one just showed up at some point. No one knew where she had come from, or if she was even human. Geralt had sniffed in her direction more than once with narrowed eyes, but did not pull out his silver sword, so Jaskier believed they were in the clear.

Geralt, meanwhile, was sure that he was slowly going insane. Where with Jaskier there had been moments of silence and even contempt, now there was constant music. Whenever one started up a song, either with plucking some strings, singing or even fucking humming along, the others would soon join in. Like a pack of wolves they were. When one started to howl the others weren‘t far behind. And somehow, his stupid, reckless, ridiculous bard- somhow Jaskier had become the pack leader. Sure, Geralt might have lead the way, but when push came to shove the musical assemble looked to Jaskier for guidance. And Jaskier did his best to provide. He had tried to coordinate the wild group as best he could, giving lectures on the fly, belting out orders when camp was to be set up, making sure injuries were treated right. And he was suffering for it, Geralt noticed. He would cast longing glances at Geralts back whenever he thought the Witcher wasn‘t aware. He would sing and write less, time spend with teaching the others instead.  
And maybe that more than anything - more than the trouble they had finding rooms in villages, and enough food and good sleeping spaces for a whole group. This finally led to Geralt snapping one lovely night. They had just settled down in Oxenfurt for the night – whether that had been a conscious or unconcious choice not even Geralt could really say – when the White Wolf cornered his little Lark in their shared room.

„You have to get rid of them. If I hear one more „Song for the Road“ I‘m going to tear someones throat out.“ he rushed out, mild panic pitching his voice a little higher than usual.

Jaskier blinked at him, needing a moment to process the whole situation. You couldn‘t really fault him for that. After all he had just come up after a great feast and performance to be suddenly slammed into the door by an angry Witcher, who was now so close that their noses were nearly brushing.

„Uhm...right. Care to release me first?“

„No...“ Geralt growled. „You promise me to disperse your pack first.“

„My pack...Geralt you know that these are humans, right.“

„Most of them...“ the Witcher muttered „Anyway wouldn‘t have been able to tell with the way you‘ve all been howling up a storm ever since you decided to wreck my peace.“

„Excuse me?! None of us howl! Well except maybe Barly, but the poor kid _is_ starting to hit puberty-“

„Not. The. Point.“

Jaskier could smell Geralts breath, the wood scraping his back as he was pressed more firmly against it. The firm arm on his chest didn‘t help much in the getting breath department either.  
This was ridiculous, it wasn‘t even like Jaskier was against the idea. Not that intimidation had ever worked on him, anyway. This was Geralt. He might have punched him in the gut once, but other than that he knew Geralt would never seriously harm him.

„But Geraaaalt, these poor souls need my guidance! And you have to admit, it‘s nice to have your own orchestra at your heels, framing every move you make. Heck, you even have a theme song now! I heard people humming it in the streets!“ Jaskier put every bit of confidence he had in this little speech of his, but the twinkle in his eyes or the upward twitch of his lip must have betrayed him.

„Quit joking around, Jaskier. This has long since stopped being funny!“

„So you admit, that it was funny once?“

„Jaskier!“

„Yes, yes.“ the bard was fast to sooth. „I get it. I‘m tired of them, too, to be honest. Good that we are in Oxenfurt. I can vouch for them at the university, if they so desire, get them a good education or something. Would that be fine with you?“

Geralt breathed a sigh of relief, slumping over the trapped Lark, nosing at the quick pulse he found under the skin of Jaskiers neck. „Hm.“

Jaskier laughed and patted his friend on the back. „Brilliant. Now as much as I enjoy the closeness, I‘d like to get to bed somewhere in the next few minutes. Come on you big bulk, move. We can cuddle under the blankets.“

„I‘m not cuddling with you.“ Geralt murmured into Jaskiers hair as he straightened up.

„Of course not.“ Jaskier replied with a smile.

They did – in fact – cuddle that night.

And the next day Jaskier broke the news to his pupils at the breakfast table. Complains raised and tears were shed, but in the end everyone agreed that this was the best for everyone. This agreement was reached quicker when Geralt decided to quip in with a few choice curses and threats.

„I‘ll miss the little rascals.“ Jaskier said, only half teasing as they left behind Oxenfurt to ride into their next adventure. He had been hoisted up and onto Roach the moment they had stepped foot outside the town and was enjoying being able to cling to Geralt again.

„They were grown people.“

„But they were _my_ little rascals.“

„Hm.“ And, after a short pause „I won‘t miss them.“

„Don‘t tell them that. They loved you.“

_No they loved you. They just liked seeing you interacting with me._ Geralt decided to keep these thoughts to himself. He gave a grunt instead. And then… „Jaskier stop humming that.“

„But it‘s your theme song!“

„If you don‘t stop I‘ll throw you off of Roach.“

„Fine...“ Jaskier huffed, singing Toss A Coin instead.

Geralt let himself smile at that. Finally everything was as it should be again.


End file.
